


absolute beginners

by Blownwish



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Awkward Sex, Awkward after sex, Hand Jobs, M/M, Oral Sex, Otabek is a dork, Porn Without Plot, basic first time, general awkwardness about sex, its just porn, otayuri - Freeform, sexytime in the shower, this is a pretty basic otayuri fic, this is pretty basic, two virgins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-28
Updated: 2017-11-28
Packaged: 2019-02-08 03:16:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12855558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blownwish/pseuds/Blownwish
Summary: It’s hard to look cool when you’re having sex.





	absolute beginners

**Author's Note:**

> I owe both [Phayte](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phayte/pseuds/Phayte) and [Annabeth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/annabeth/pseuds/annabeth) for beta’ing this. Thank you guys so much! Two live betas! Holy canole!

Sex was a big mistake. Kissing was easy. Everything after was a trainwreck. It all went wrong. Otabek didn’t know what the hell he was doing. 

Otabek knew how to give him soft, breathy little presses against the lips. He knew how to stroke his tongue against Yuri’s. How to make Yuri whimper and whine and wiggle on his lap. He could definitely kiss. 

Showing up at Yuri’s apartment was a forty five hundred kilometer impulse Otabek could no more kill than the glee in Yuri’s eyes when he answered Otabek’s knock. “What are you doing here?”

Stupid question, but Otabek had a good answer. 

“Oh my god!” Yuri slammed the door as Otabek slammed him up against a wall in an apartment he had pieced together through Skype and Instagram and text photos. Yuri’s hands raked through Otabek’s hair and Yuri’s mouth opened for him and he wrapped his legs around him and finally — finally! — they were going to do it. “You’re so cool!” Yuri liked the leather jacket. And the jeans. “Tell me you brought your bike.”

Otabek wasn’t that crazy. He made a mental note to rent one as he carried Yuri down a white hall and toward the blue couch that served as background in way too many videos and photos. It was a creature with hundreds of parts on his cloud account. Now it held Yuri like a promise in its phantom prongs for Otabek to pluck like a dish. “Fuck me.” Yuri peeled off his clothes like wrapping and Otabek pulled them all off until he was naked and willing and waiting and wanting and —

Otabek was falling into creamy pink skin and he knocked the air out of Yuri when they hit the carpet. The bottle of lube fell out of his pocket and it was somewhere under the couch and Yuri was trying his best not to gag on him but he was. And his teeth - Yuri had too many teeth as far as Otabek’s cock was concerned. “Let’s just - “ He didn’t know what to do with his hands as he tried to rearrange Yuri into some kind of legs wide open shape. “Let’s keep it simple.”

The lube bottle was covered on cat hair. Then the lube seemed to attract cat hair when it wasn’t getting poured directly onto the sofa. 

They couldn’t get it in. “No!” Yuri yelped after one finger, a lot of cursing, and one failed push with Otabek’s dick. They ended up staring awkwardly over each other’s shoulders as they jerked each other off. Otabek was staring at a framed Junior World’s gold medal when he came. 

“You want something to drink?” Yuri is dressed in a huge slack T-shirt now, like a hospital patient, holding up a bottle he’s probably ready to throw. Otabek’s not so cool, now that he’s failed at the one thing Yuri wanted most. He’s a disappointment, like Nikiforov. No, worse. Nikiforov can still hit gold. And he probably knows how to do more than kiss. 

What the hell was he thinking?

++

He kissed Yuri Plisetsky in Barcelona, after that first day. Otabek knew it would happen; he could feel it hovering between them as they stood in the elevator, as Otabek walked him to his room, as Otabek took the card key out of Yuri’s shaking hand and swiped his mouth over Yuri’s as the magnetic strip passed through its slot. 

“Wow, really?” Yuri said it softly, sweetly. Just the way Otabek always imagined he would. And he looked even softer and sweeter. “Took you all day.”

Otabek touched his cheek. Then his lower lip. “Wanted to save the best for last.” He did. And he had planned it that way. Including that line. Everything had to go according to plan if he was going to win Yuri Plisetsky. 

“When did you know you wanted to kiss me?” His mouth was close. 

Otabek got closer. Close enough to press his upper lip to his and smile against his mouth. “Since the beginning of time.” But he didn’t kiss him again. He just gently pushed Yuri into his room and tapped him on the nose. “See you on the ice, Plisetsky.”

++

Netflix is supposed to be background noise during sex. It isn’t supposed to be what people stare at while they wonder why they just had terrible sex. 

With a big wet lube stain between them. 

“You want Chinese takeout?” 

Otabek dares himself to look Yuri’s way. He’s staring at the big screen like he’s never seen zombies before and he doesn’t know what to call them. “Not in my food plan. Carbs.”

“Just chicken and veggies, no rice. To go.” Yuri glances at Otabek like he’s not sure he’s supposed to. “Does that count for losing virginity?”

“No. Lots of virgins ask to hold rice. Pretty sure.” Otabek doesn’t want to talk about it. Besides, jokes are cool. Humor is cool. Yuri might still think Otabek is cool. So he smiles. 

Yuri just gets on his phone. “They deliver in an hour.”

Will he even be here in an hour? How? 

“What?” Yuri shifts from one leg to another and Otabek can still see the greasy lube shine on his inner thigh. “You wanna try messing around some more?”

Otabek pulls at his shirt. He pulls and he falls to his knees. He doesn’t know a cool way to say he’s going to make it up to him. That’s okay. Otabek is all about working things out. He looks up when Yuri’s hand combs through his hair. “Is that okay with you?”

He doesn’t smile. He beams like sunshine. “Fuck yeah.”

Otabek is good at kissing. So that’s what he’s going to do. He’s just going to kiss Yuri here. He lifts the shirt and he’s staring at the pinkest, ripest dick his imagination failed to concoct over the span of years. Otabek’s mouth waters and his hands - he knows he wants them on Yuri, somewhere - he puts his hands on his flat, firm belly and he looks up. And he kisses him. Right on the belly button. 

Yuri giggles but it’s fine. Everything is fine. Yuri’s still smiling down at him. 

Then he kisses his pelvic bone. His thigh. He stops when Yuri fists his hair. “Don’t stop.” And he looks up again when he comes front and center and that sweet, pink cock is just a breath away. “Please?” God, that _smile_. 

He kisses the tip, the foreskin, and he can taste the cherry lube. He can almost taste the piss when he opens his mouth and he presses his tongue flat against the tip and he looks up again. 

Is he doing this right? 

“Keep going.” They aren’t words. Just little huffs that somehow work together and Otabek moans when Yuri thrusts a little. Just a little. 

He likes it. 

Otabek closes his eyes. He swirls his tongue around his head and he feels Yuri’s hands slide down his jaw and he feels one hand slide away and Yuri is jerking himself off. Otabek covers his hand. He wants to know how to touch him. He just leaves it there as he sucks.

He learns how to keep the touch light on Yuri’s foreskin. He listens and he hears Yuri’s breath hitch when he pulls his mouth back and forth with just a little suction. And he tastes the precome on his tongue. 

“Beka.” Yuri puts Otabek’s hand around his cock. “Please, Beka?” His knees shake and he falls with a soft plop on the sofa. Otabek follows and he cups Yuri’s balls and he holds Yuri’s cock and he opens his mouth and he takes more in. “Yeah please please please — _Yeah!_ ” 

His hand moves and he’s trying so hard to suck while Yuri thrusts up and he wants to make it so so good and he’s going to as long as those sweet moans keep coming and those hands keep scrambling over his scalp, because Yuri Plisetsky is going to be his and no one else’s. Otabek will blow him every day they’re together. He will get on his knees and he will suck until Yuri is dry. “I’m going to kiss you everywhere.” Did he say that out loud? 

Otabek pushes his knees back. Huffs as Yuri sobs, “Oh my god! Oh fuck! Not there!” And presses his open mouth against him.

“Everywhere.” Presses his tongue inside him. He forgets to wonder what to do with his hands as he grips that tight ass and he tongue fucks him. 

The cherry lube and the sobbing and the hand in his hair and Yuri spread out for him. Only him. Always him. Never anyone else but him. Right here, between Yuri’s legs.

“I’m going to come!” 

“Come for me.” Otabek jerks him off fast and hard as his tongue pushes in deep and he moans as Yuri jerks up and grabs his head and Yuri yells his name. He _comes_ , and Otabek feels his dick pulse and he’s somehow coming too, fucking up his pants as he pushes in one more time. 

++

He kissed Yuri Plisetsky for the second time, at the Barcelona airport. Yuri had roped him into the circle of his arms and beamed up at him with sunshine and all that adrenaline. “My friend!” 

Friends didn’t swipe their tongues together. Friends didn’t lick their friends’ lower lips, stroke for stroke. They didn’t stare into each other's eyes as the very non-platonic kiss broke off, until their coaches pulled them apart and threw them into their respective and opposing routes. Friends didn’t eye fuck each other until they were out of sight. 

“Did you see that, Viktor? He’s a thousand times cooler than your sad ass!”

++

If the first time was awkward the second time was painful. Yuri’s legs plopped on the cushions and Otabek sat up right away. Yuri was pink and breathless and looking everywhere but back at Otabek. “Um, do you want me to — “ Yuri couldn’t even look at him. 

“I’m good.”

“Oh.” Yuri shoved his shirt over his soft wet dick and he took a deep breath like he was going to say something. And instead of saying anything he let out a soft little sigh and scrambled his way to the the bathroom like a scalded cat. 

This is how Otabek finds himself alone with a sticky load in his pants as the shower runs and Otabek’s thoughts run and and he’s pretty sure there are still plane flights running to Almaty tonight. 

No. He’s not a quitter and Yuri — he knows Yuri liked it — they just don’t know what to say or to do. And that makes sense because they’re absolute beginners. And maybe, maybe Otabek needs to stop trying to look cool and start trying to figure out what Yuri needs. 

He takes off his shirt. His pants are sticky and he kicks them off after his shoes as he goes down the white hall and he knocks on the white door, naked, hoping he’s right. “Hey, you okay?”

The door cracks open and one shy green eye is eyeing him. “You’re not wearing clothes.”

Otabek feels his cheeks burn and he feels Yuri’s eyes all over him and he tries to forget about playing it cool. It’s so hard. What if Yuri Plisetsky figures him out? “I - I need a shower, too.”

Yuri bites his lip. Yuri opens the door. Yuri steps aside as Otabek steps into the steam and the tile and the revelation that is Yuri’s naked creamy body. God, he is so beautiful. And Otabek? Otabek is just some naked creep - and it’s too late. Yuri will be able to see right through him because Otabek can’t stop staring. 

“Would you -“ Yuri steps close, as if he isn’t disgusted by all the things Otabek did back there “ - would you take a shower with me?”

It’s like a dream. Soap slides down Yuri’s back like every drop of come Otabek ever had for Yuri. Water sluices over his skin and Otabek follows its trail with his eyes until Yuri holds out a cloth and asks with one look over his shoulder. 

Somehow he’s allowed to be here. Some way he’s rubbing more soap and more dreams into that flushed skin and Yuri is kissing him again. Touching him back and he’s smiling. “I’m so glad you came.”

He’s glad. He doesn’t want Otabek to leave. He’s happy. He wants Otabek to stay. To stay. Yuri’s tongue touches his and Otabek groans as Yuri slides to his knees and looks up in a shower that feels as warm as summer rain when Yuri smiles. 

++

The last time he kissed Yuri Plisetsky was at the St Petersburg airport, one week after they lost their virginity in Yuri’s one bedroom apartment. Their hands were linked. Their lips were soft and their eyes were closed as they savored one last taste of afternoon piroshkis and coffee on each other’s tongues. 

“Be good,” Otabek said as he pulled back, as he tucked Yuri’s hair behind his ear, as he smiled at that sunshine smile one last time. 

Yuri rubbed his nose against his and laughed. “You’re such a dork.” He laughed as Otabek turned bright red. “Oh my god, you’re so adorable! How am I going to say goodbye, you big goofball?”

Otabek blushed all the way to the gate. He was the least cool looking guy to ever wear a leather jacket. And Yuri Plisetsky still liked him. 

Somehow.


End file.
